Chapters (79)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Praise for Destroy All Monsters
- Books by Sam J. Miller
- Back Ad
- About the Publisher
And then time sped up, again. And Bobby roared, an ugly inarticulate garble-sound of idiot rage, and he swung the jug.
Two people screamed.
And the jug—stopped. In midair. Midswing.
No one saw Solomon coming, or knew how long he’d been standing there. In the dark. Watching. Waiting.
Or had he just arrived, his timing perfect to reach out one strong arm and grab hold of Bobby and stop it? To take the kerosene jug out of his hand, and hurl it into the Hudson River? The splash sounded super–far away. A bell tolled, out on the river. Solomon stomped out where the sand was still burning in front of me.
“Come on,” he said, holding out his hand for mine. “Let’s get out of here.”
Twenty-Four
Solomon
A bell tolled, from a buoy out on the riversea. I had no idea how long I’d been wandering like that, through the crowded streets, deaf and dumb to the world around me, trying to pretend like I hadn’t just watched a monster get murdered.
Shouts jolted me back to reality. A bunch of kids, taunting a green dragon. Screaming at it; running up and poking it and running away.
Most monsters in Darkside are pretty chill about random antagonism. But this one was pissed. All the monsters were on edge that morning. What had happened to the chimera—they could smell it in the air. And people were messing with monsters everywhere.
I called out, “Dumb move, kids. They’re vegetarians, but you still don’t want to piss them off.”
“Shut up, monster!” one of them hollered.
“Yeah!”
“Your funeral,” I said, and kept walking.
But then I stopped. Turned around.
It wouldn’t kill them. But it might slap them with its tail, give them a gentle kick, and the last thing this powder-keg city needed was a couple crying kids talking about how a monster attacked them.
I looked at the coffee cup in my hand. It had gone cold. I did not even remember buying it. Any other day, kids harassing a dragon would have amused me. Like ants annoying an elephant.
But now, I wasn’t amused. I was afraid.
The dragon let loose an angry roar. Fear spiked, made me dizzy, unstable. But fear also made me remember. Opened something inside me. A bridge, to the last time I felt so disoriented.
Twelve years old. Wandering through the Palace halls. Going to see Ash. Summer twilight; walking the ramparts high above the city. Black clouds piled high like a cliff in the distance. Air smelling like someone roasting a pig. I knocked on the door of Ash’s room. Got no answer. Remembered it was time for her daily combat session with her nine soldiers.
I headed for the Magic Rooms. I climbed up to the High Tower.
I saw Ash.